


Away From It All

by Writingwife83



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 2500 follower fic giveaway, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Post-Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: After Sherlock’s fall and before he leaves England, he needs to lay low and put a plan together for his next move. Molly arranges for them to stay somewhere outside the city, free of distractions. At least, no distractions from the outside world.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 135
Kudos: 142
Collections: Wifey’s Sherlolly Prompts





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FOREVER_SHERLOCKED](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FOREVER_SHERLOCKED/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever_sherlollied won my tumblr 2500 follower fic giveaway and gave my this prompt for Sherlock staying with Molly after his fall. I appreciate her allowing me to tweak it a bit lol!

[Fic Moodboard on tumblr](https://writingwife-83.tumblr.com/post/639344263482769408/away-from-it-all)

Molly got out of the rental car, walking around behind it and leaning against a nearby tree as she dialed the number, waiting while the line trilled. 

“Molly?”

“Hey, Greg,” she greeted as cheerily as the circumstances called for. “How are you?”

“Eh, I’m alright I s’pose,” he replied, a heaviness to his words. “As much as any of us can be.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s...it’s been hard.” Molly cleared her throat. “Well um, listen, I just wanted to let someone back home know that I’m going to be away for a while. A few days at least.”

“Really? Where’d you go off to?”

Molly glanced around, her gaze drifting to the curly head in her passenger seat. 

“Outside the city,” she replied vaguely. “I just, yknow, needed to get away from everything. After the funeral I um…”

She paused, allowing her discomfort with all the deception to come off as emotion. 

“I know, Molly. I know,” Greg soothed gently. “It’s gotta be tough on you. You two were close. I mean, as close as Sherlock could be to any of us.”

She swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly like sandpaper. “I did send John a text as well, letting him know I’d be away. He hasn’t responded. Maybe you could check in on him?”

“Yeah I was gonna pop by tomorrow.” He sighed. “And I think that’s good you’re taking some time off. You need that. We all need to clear our head a bit, don’t we? It’s all just...a lot to take in.”

Molly's heart broke for him and she chewed her lip, holding back from saying the wrong thing, from saying too much. 

“It’ll be ok, Greg,” she finally replied softly, the hitch in her voice very real. “I think we all just need to process everything.” 

“We do, you’re right. Well, that’s said, you have a good getaway, Molly. You deserve that,” Greg said, and she could hear a little smile in his voice. “And we’ll see you when you get back, alright?”

“Thanks, Greg. Ok, I’ll see you then.”

Molly hung up, breathing in deep and exhaling slow. She put the phone back in her pocket and returned to the car. 

“How was that, then?”

Molly glanced only briefly at Sherlock, then ran a hand through her hair, turning the key and preparing to drive the rest of the way to the cabin. 

“Not easy,” she replied simply. 

“But did he suspect anything?”

She couldn’t help giving him a harder glare. 

“I’m not an idiot, Sherlock. No, he doesn’t suspect anything. He thinks I’m taking time off to mourn, and to get away from the city and all the news about the suicide. He has no reason to think anything else.”

“Good.”

Molly released a heavy breath. “Well anyway, we’re almost there. Just a few more miles down the road. Then we’ll be out of mobile reception. This seemed like the right time to get that done.”

It was strange going back to this place under the circumstances. This little cottage had been a vacation spot of hers some years ago, and she’d gone with a couple of girlfriends just to enjoy a weekend of wine and crap food and laughing until they cried. When Sherlock announced immediately after his faked death that he’d need to leave the city as soon as possible and lay low for a few days while planning his next move, this was the first place that came to mind. 

Molly imagined her stay this time would be quite a bit different than her first.

A few moments more of silence set in before Molly got up the courage to add, “I didn’t get any response when I texted John.”

Sherlock’s gaze stayed fixed out the window, seemingly too fascinated by the passing trees to make any answer.

“Greg said he’d check in on him tomorrow,” Molly added.

“Probably wise,” he finally said.

“I just...I can’t imagine how he must-“

“Yes, best not to,” Sherlock cut in tersely. 

Molly looked at his profile again, that steely exterior practically shining in the sunlight. She supposed he’d want to keep that up more than ever at the moment, and she couldn’t much blame him. He might not be able to cope if he let it all in. 

They drove in silence the rest of the way down the bumpy road. As they rounded a corner and pulled into the driveway of the cottage, a young woman stood by her own vehicle, waving as they stopped.

“I thought you said we’d be alone,” Sherlock grumbled. 

“She just has to give us the keys and instructions for locking up when we leave. It’s alright, I only used my name and you look different enough.”

He really did. Molly was surprised how much of a difference it made to simply cut a couple of inches off his hair and make a few wardrobe changes. To Molly of course, it was still him, but he’d never be recognized as _the_ Sherlock Holmes. 

“Hello there!” The woman walked closer as they got out of the car. “I’m Bridget. Hope you found the place ok.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been here before a few years back,” Molly explained. “It was no trouble. Thanks for meeting us, it’s nice to meet you Bridget.”

“No problem at all,” she replied, fishing a set of keys from her coat pocket along with some printed instructions. “Everything you need to know is right on here. Just be sure to lock up and then leave the keys in the drop box by the door on your way out. A couple other little housekeeping items, but they’re simple things. If you have any questions or you need anything, you can give me a ring. The landline works.” 

“Wonderful, thanks so much,” Molly said, giving her a little nod and moving to return to the car for her bag.

“Not that you two will probably need much,” the woman laughed. “People come here to get away from it all, have some quiet time, _alone_ time.” She lifted her brows suggestively. 

Molly laughed nervously. “Right, I’m sure.”

“I just have to say, you two are adorable!” she gushed. “Is this an anniversary? Some kind of special occasion? Honeymoon perhaps?”

“Oh, um, well it’s really just a, uh-“

“Just a long weekend to get away from work and focus on each other,” Sherlock suddenly replied, and Molly nearly jumped as his arm encircled her shoulders, tugging her in gently against his chest. “No distractions.”

The woman clutched a hand to her chest, smiling at Molly. “You have a good one, don’t you? Better not let him get away!”

“I try not to,” Molly replied, casually as she was able. 

“Well, we’d better get inside and start relaxing, right, darling?” Sherlock asked, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. 

Molly managed a smile. “We’d better, yes. Thanks so much again and we’ll be sure to give you a ring if needed.”

“Have a _marvelous_ time!” the cottage owner said, a little slow to walk away as she continued gazing appreciatively in their direction. “You two remind me what love is supposed to be like!”

They both smiled and waved her off before hurrying to grab their things and get inside. Once the door was shut and locked behind them, Sherlock let out a little huff.

“She had better not be back. There’s only so much of that nonsense I can take.”

“Yeah, me too,” Molly muttered, hurriedly unwinding her scarf and removing her jacket since the wood stove was already blazing in the sitting room.

And besides, her cheeks had already been on fire before they even crossed the threshold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come, guys! Hope you subscribe and follow along. As always, beta credit to Lexie. ❤️


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ll never guess what trope we encounter in this chapter! XD

Sherlock toweled off his hair some more before throwing a dressing gown over his pajama bottoms and vest and heading back downstairs. He’d wanted to be alone for a while anyway, so enjoying a hot shower and a change of clothes effectively accomplished that goal. His own dressing gown and pajamas felt like a touch of home and they softened the blow of staring down the barrel of an untold length of time being away from all that was familiar. 

He hadn’t yet decided if having Molly there with him further softened the blow, or perhaps made him dread it all the more.

Sherlock walked down the small staircase, noting the warm glow of a flame in the fireplace as he did. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs though, he saw Molly jump up from where she sat on the sofa and could instantly tell there was something bothering her. 

“What is it? Has something happened?” he questioned, feeling his pulse speed up.

Molly hesitated. “Well, there is a bit of a problem.”

She leaned over and plucked the cushion from off the sofa, pointing downwards and prompting Sherlock to come look. He shook his head in confusion. 

“I don’t understand, what’s the problem? Was there something in there?”

“It’s what’s  _ not _ there,” she clarified. “It’s just a normal sofa. It doesn’t pull out into a bed!

Sherlock’s shoulders fell slack in relief as he released a breath. He was a bit on edge after all that had happened and all he had riding on a successful execution of this plan. This was not exactly the sort of problem he had feared. 

“Hardly a problem,” he said quickly, turning to head into the adjacent kitchen.

“Yes but you couldn’t possibly sleep on a couch this short and...there’s just the one bed,” Molly replied with an accompanying nervous laugh. “When I stayed here with my girlfriends this sofa was different. She must have changed it since I was last here.”

Sherlock said nothing, filling the kettle and setting it on the stovetop before rummaging through the cabinets for tea.

Molly walked over as well, leaning against the edge of the counter. “Just thought you’d want to know I at least  _ tried _ to book a place with two beds. So I suppose I shouldn’t complain?”

Sherlock let out a short laugh. “To what end? I imagine she doesn’t have a spare sofa she can drop off at a moment’s notice. There’s little or nothing she could do. Besides, might be a bit suspicious if we complain about there only being one bed after I described this weekend as a chance for us to  _ focus on each other _ without distractions.”

“Right, that’s true,” she muttered. “A-and I know we’ve shared a bed before, but…”

He noticed the way she shifted her stance, tucking her hair behind her ear as some color bloomed on her cheeks.

Against his will, the somewhat innocent words recalled tiny pieces of memories, like slides playing in his brain. The slight rise and fall of her body in restful breathing, the smell of her nighttime hand cream, the way he’d inch over until he could feel just a bit of the warmth coming off her body…

Her gaze lifted to him again and she gave him a small smile. “But I still assumed two beds would be...preferable.”

Sherlock ignited the burner under the kettle before turning to her and stating simply, “I haven’t a preference.” He grabbed a basket of tea bags from the cabinet, holding it up in offering. “Tea?”

* * *

By later that night Sherlock was beginning to realize the full weight of being significantly off the grid. He sat at the little kitchen table, pouring over actual, physical maps, and charting out his travel plans by the truly inadequate lighting this cottage had to offer. The whole thing was quickly becoming tiresome. 

“What’s that? That where you’re going?” Molly asked, walking over and glancing down at the papers.

Sherlock folded the maps closed. “I can’t say.”

“Sherlock, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I didn’t say you would.”

“But you still don’t want me knowing?”

He glanced up at her. “The less you know, the  _ safer _ you’ll be.”

Her expression fell a little, reading the seriousness in his and pausing.

“So...it’s that dangerous? What you’re going to do, I mean.”

Sherlock drew a breath, a bit unsure himself how best to answer that. 

“Probably more so than what I just did on Bart’s rooftop,” he finally admitted.

The look in her eyes suggested that was far from comforting. 

“Not to worry,” Sherlock added, attempting to lighten the tone. “I’ve gotten out of much worse.”

Had he? He wasn’t sure if that was completely true. But he also didn’t think it would do much good to be overly frank with her, given the circumstances. 

“Well I’ll um, I’ll just leave you to it then.” Molly offered him a tight smile before turning away. “I think I’ll go have a shower before bed and then read my book.”

Sherlock nearly replied by telling her he’d be up in a bit, but even in his head the simple words sounded so uncomfortably...domestic and intimate. By the time he turned to say anything she’d already disappeared up the stairs. 

Probably better that way.

* * *

He didn’t really keep track of how much longer he stayed up. But by the time he’d finished the planning he wanted to do and spent some time remapping it all in his mind palace, the fire had burned down to embers. Checking his watch, he realized it was quarter of one in the morning. Probably best to attempt some sleep.

He headed upstairs and used the washroom, smelling the lingering, familiar scent of Molly’s soap. There was something admittedly comforting about that smell. He’d come to know it well after staying at Molly’s flat as many times as he had.

A light was still on as he approached the bedroom, but when he rounded the corner he saw Molly’s head comfortably reclined against the pillow with her eyes closed and her book resting open against her chest. He paused for just a breath, his lips lifting ever so slightly. She looked so picturesquely serene, as if nothing were wrong with the world around her. 

Looking at her like this, he wished that were true.

Gingerly, Sherlock took hold of the book, carefully lifting it and putting her bookmark in place before setting the book on the nightstand. She let out a heavier sigh and he froze momentarily until it seemed clear she wasn’t really waking. 

He discarded his dressing gown, draping it over the wooden foot of the bed before circling around the other side and carefully pulling back the covers. Sherlock rather prided himself on having excellent abilities in stealth, so he had no trouble climbing into the bed and settling himself in without disturbing her. Quite a feat, considering how badly this bed was in need of a new mattress. 

As he settled in though, he groaned inwardly, realizing that after all his efforts, he hadn’t done one of the most important things- shut off the light which was on her nightstand. Unwilling to retrace his steps and have to go through all of that again without waking her, Sherlock opted to simply lean over and reach the switch. 

Bracing himself on one elbow, he reached his other arm over and past her body to the base of the lamp on the nightstand, stretching as best he could until his fingertip had just barely reached…

“Sherlock?”

Momentarily frozen, Sherlock slowly turned to see Molly staring up at him, eyes wide and slightly confused. Her lips parted as she looked at him, pink and defined, and for just a split second his mind went blank.

“The um-“ He cleared his throat. “You see, the light- I hadn’t shut if off when I got in, and you were asleep so I thought it best to...keep it that way.”

He nearly laughed aloud at himself, the explanation sounding truly ridiculous once he said it aloud. 

Molly smirked, reaching over and turning the light off with minimal effort. “There. That help?”

“Thanks,” he muttered, shifting back over to his side again. 

Sherlock was glad for the darkness by then, his ears practically burning on the sides of his head.

“You get everything planned out?” she asked, her words seeming so loud in the stark silence of nighttime in the country.

“Mostly, yes. I’ve at least got the first part of my journey well mapped out. From there...who knows?”

He heard her head turn on the pillow.

“So...how long then?”

Sherlock gulped. “Hard to say.”

“But if you had to guess,” she pressed. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”

He twisted his lips in the darkness, pondering that question, knowing instantly that the answer was most definitely not weeks. He hesitated to give her his most accurate estimate. After all, perhaps he’d be wrong. It did happen from time to time.

“Months seems more likely,” he replied quietly.

She said nothing for what seemed like forever and when he glanced over, she’d turned again to stare up at the ceiling.

“That’s a long time,” she murmured, and the words seemed mostly spoken to herself. 

He had to admit that his time away had never sounded longer than when she’d defined it as such. Suddenly, Sherlock found himself experiencing the slight ache of homesickness before he’d even left the country. That wouldn’t do. His next words came out without truly thinking.

“I’m not gone yet, Molly.”

She turned again, this time meeting his gaze, or as much as was possible by the meager light of the moon.

“That’s true.” He thought he could hear a slight smile in her tone. “We’ve still got three more days.”

Sherlock tried not to hear the hope and promise in that statement, but it still managed to warm him, like a fire silently spreading underground.

“Yes,” he agreed in a whisper. “Three more days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no...There Was Only One Bed™️!! More to come soon. ;)  
> Beta credit to Lexie. ❤️


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to take an extra couple of days with this because the tone didn’t come out quite right the first time. I’m definitely happier with it now. :)

Sherlock stirred, hearing the ringing next to him and fumbling to grab his temporary mobile from the nightstand. Seeing it was Mycroft’s number, he answered. 

“Hello?”

“Good morning, brother mine. Sleep well?”

Sherlock groaned, pushing himself to sit up as he noticed Molly was already out of the bed. He could hear some noises downstairs so she’d likely just gotten up early. 

“Well enough. What is it? Any problems?”

“Just an updated departure time for you. The private flight I’ve arranged is going to be a longer wait.”

“How much longer?” he practically growled.

“Just another three days. Shouldn’t make much difference to your overall plans.”

“Molly had only reserved this place for another two days, Mycroft! What are we supposed to do when we leave here?”

He heard his brother let out a little huff. “ _ We _ ? Is she still there?”

Sherlock paused, considering this question. “She’s- the reservation was in her name of course.”

“For God’s sake, Sherlock, if you’re settled in, send the woman home. She needn’t be involved any further. When your stay at the cottage is done I’ll simply make alternate arrangements for you and send a car.”

“Yes, fine,” Sherlock muttered, running a hand over his face. 

But it wasn’t fine. This was the last thing he wanted to hear. He just wanted to get started. He wanted to leave as soon as possible so that he could return. Sitting around even longer and doing nothing was going to drive him mad. 

“I’ll text you where and when to send a car,” he added with a sigh, throwing the covers off. “And try to avoid any further changes in plans.”

* * *

Molly clutched the warm mug closer to her chest as she sat in the early morning silence on the cottage stoop. Mist still hovered over the ground and the birds had only just begun chirping, but Molly hadn’t been able to stay in bed. She’d woken when the sun wasn’t even up yet, but she felt almost instantly antsy, unable to go back to sleep or even to lie still. 

He’d been so  _ very _ close to her. She’d already noticed when they arrived that the bed was a bit narrower than she was used to, but that fact seemed especially noticeable when she’d woken up.

Sherlock’s dark, curly head was tilted over a bit, nearly touching hers. She could smell his soap, hear his gentle breathing, see his eyes moving behind his eyelids in deep and restful sleep. There was nothing dramatic and unusual in any of it, but that didn’t matter. In fact, that’s what was so attractive about the entire scene. It just felt normal and comfortable, and it made her long for more. 

The situation they were in was weighing heavily in the back of her mind, and she recognized that the fact that Sherlock was even asleep at all was an indicator of just how exhausted he really was. But a heavily guarded part of her heart also wanted to take this moment and wonder what it would be like if circumstances were different. 

She’d wanted to brush his brow with her fingertips, place a soft kiss just there, and then curl up against him, wrapping an arm around his middle, feeling the warmth from his body mix with hers.

But she knew she couldn’t, and so instead opted to get out of bed and maintain some distance. It seemed to be for the best. She made the most of the quiet; making some coffee, breathing in the fresh country air, and thinking about where her life would go after all of this was put to rest.

She wished she knew.

Molly made her way back inside eventually, choosing one of the few books she’d brought with her and settling herself in the large armchair by the window. Perhaps the best thing at the moment was just some simple distraction. 

* * *

“I can see you’ve been up a while. I’d estimate since sunrise.”

Molly’s head lifted from the page at the sound of Sherlock’s voice, smiling as he reached the bottom of the stairs and went to the kitchen.

“That obvious?”

He shrugged. “Can’t get too bored while I’m here. I’ve got to deduce something.”

She laughed a little, setting her book aside. “There’s coffee if you’d like some.”

“Thank you, yes.”

She went back to her book, but after a few minutes of Sherlock shuffling around the kitchen, getting his coffee and adding some sugar, he cleared his throat.

“Molly, I think I’m going to need a favor today. Best to get it done before my departure gets too close.”

Setting her book aside again, she instantly gave him her full attention. “What is it?”

“I think there are some last minute items that I’ll need to bring with me while abroad. I’d have been able to take any and all of it from my flat, but naturally that wasn’t an option. As I went over some of the details in my mind last night, I realized that some things I can’t do without. Would you be able to pick some things up? Without going too far, of course.”

“Yes I think so,” Molly replied confidently. “There is a small town nearby with at least a few shops I could try. Do you have a list?”

“I’ll make one. I’d come along and help, but of course-“

“Difficult to shop when you’re dead,” she finished with a little snort.

She half expected a snide remark about her humor, but when she looked up she saw only a little smile on his lips. It was the kind one wore when sharing an inside joke or a secret glance. 

“Fortunate for me that the dead are your area,” he quipped, giving her a little wink before he took a seat at the kitchen counter to enjoy his coffee.

It certainly wasn’t the first time a morbid conversation with him had made her blush, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

* * *

Molly was gone for most of the day, going here and there in the small town, picking up this and that from his strange and varied list of needs. She picked out some things for dinner for the next couple of nights as well. It occurred to her that it might be some time before Sherlock would enjoy a nicely cooked meal, so she intended to help him make the most of it. 

It was about time for dinner by the time she got back to the cottage, and when she walked in she was surprised to find Sherlock in the sitting room, the floor around him covered in more maps and scrap pieces of paper and lists. He barely seemed to notice when she walked in, his hands perched on his hips as his gaze remained focused on the items strewn about him.

“Hi,” she greeted softly, setting some bags on the counter.

“Mm.”

Molly left the bags for a moment, crossing the room to where he stood and staring down at the floor. 

“You seem...busy,” she hazarded. 

Sherlock suddenly did a little double take, frowning at her as if only just realizing she was actually standing next to him. He pivoted his body, positioning himself right in her line of vision before placing his hands on her shoulders. 

“Best if you’re not in here,” he said, turning her gently and walking her back towards the kitchen.

Molly laughed a little. “Sherlock, I don’t really even know what I’m looking at!”

“But if you look at it, it’s all going to be up there somewhere,” he insisted, giving her head a little tap with his finger. “You could recall it without even realizing, and your mind would naturally be working it out. You’re certainly more than capable of that level of deduction.”

His hands slid away from her arms, and she was instantly a little sorry for the loss.

Molly returned to the bags she’d brought in, handing some over which were items from his lengthy list. “I suppose I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

She paused as he walked back into the sitting room, then spoke again.

“Sherlock, don’t you think you should take it easy just a bit? I mean, after all that’s just happened. I know your work isn’t over, but maybe until you have to leave you should just, y’know...rest.”

He kept his back to her, at first giving no indication he’d even heard. It was a few moments before he finally replied. Though, she noted that his tone lacked the usual conviction. 

“I’d rather keep busy.”

Trying not to miss a beat, Molly held up the bag of food she’d purchased. 

“Pasta for dinner?” Molly asked, and he merely grunted in what seemed to be an affirmative. 

She’d take it.

* * *

Molly stood still, eyes shut as she let the hot water stream down her face in the cramped little shower. There were moments when she nearly forgot this wasn’t a holiday, and this was one of them. There was something about enjoying a bath or shower in a different place that always felt especially luxurious. Well, aside from her few experiences with camping. Those showers left plenty to be desired.

Dinner had been brief and not particularly noteworthy. Sherlock finally took the plate that she shoved at him, but he didn’t finish his serving, only taking a few occasional bites in between his seemingly constant planning. Molly didn’t pretend to know exactly what he was going through, but it had to be a lot. It couldn’t be easy. After all, he’d already told her as much.

He’d told her he wasn’t ok.

Eventually coming out of the washroom, Molly sat in the armchair in the corner of the bedroom to apply moisturizer to her arms and legs as was her usual after shower routine. She brushed her hair carefully afterwards, deciding on a French braid to tame the damp locks. 

Molly glanced at the time once she was done, seeing that it was past midnight already. She climbed into bed and despite the fact that it was rather late, she picked up her book from the nightstand, deciding to wind down for a while before turning out the light…

* * *

Her eyes flew open, jolting awake and remembering where she was. She pushed herself to sit up and grabbed her mobile on the nightstand, setting her forgotten book aside. Her eyes widened at seeing that it was now after three in the morning, and she could clearly see that there was still some light coming from the downstairs. 

Creeping out of the bedroom and quietly down the stairs, she was greeted with the sigh of Sherlock sitting cross legged on the floor of the sitting room, one lamp still on in the corner of the room. His back was to her and she could see him leaned over, his head resting in one hand. 

The image before her recalled the sight of him only days before, wide eyed and desperate in Bart’s darkened lab, and this broke her heart all over again.

Molly padded softly over to where he sat on the floor, standing just behind him. “Sherlock? It’s awfully late.”

He didn’t turn. “Apologies if I woke you,” he replied simply, his voice betraying the exhaustion she’d suspected.

“That’s not why I…” She drew a breath. “Sherlock, you should come rest.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Molly. You can go back upstairs.”

Something snapped inside her and she reached out, placing her hand on his shoulder, her grip firm and supportive. 

“Come rest,” she repeated, unyielding this time.

He turned his head slightly, glancing at the small hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not going back to bed without you,” she added, and she wasn’t even sorry at how intimate the words sounded. 

There was a brief pause, but to her surprise, he finally stood. Silently, almost blindly, he walked to the lamp, shutting it off before rejoining her. In the now darkened downstairs, his hand found hers, and somehow it didn’t even feel strange or unexpected.

They walked together up the stairs and into the little bedroom. Molly shut the light off immediately when they crossed the threshold, somehow sensing that the cover of darkness was what he needed, what they both needed.

Molly was vaguely aware of the fact that Sherlock took off his dress shirt and trousers while she climbed into bed, but he soon followed after her. She felt the mattress dip and felt the brush of his arm against hers. For a moment afterwards, there was silent, stillness.

“I know you’re still...not ok,” she found herself whispering. “Not yet.”

She heard him draw a breath.

“But you will be,” she added, and she reached down, finding his hand just as he’d found hers downstairs. 

Without hesitation Sherlock’s fingers closed around hers, warm and secure, and Molly’s eyes shut, allowing herself to truly drink in the way their hands fit together. 

This felt  _ right _ .

She couldn’t deny that something hummed between them now, alive and palpable and nagging to be acknowledged, perhaps louder than usual without the distractions of their normal activities. Molly wondered if she was the only one to notice this shift. 

Or did he feel it too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are gettin feelsy, friends! I think there will be a couple more chapters in this little multi chapter, so stay tuned because more is coming soon. ;)  
> Beta credit to Lexie ❤️


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have gotten this done a few days ago, but alas...I was slow. I’d offer a better excuse but honestly I don’t have one lol. Hope you guys enjoy this one! ;)

Molly’s eyes fluttered open. It didn’t take long for her to remember where she was and what was going on, since the first thing she saw was Sherlock Holmes staring back at her. 

“Hi,” she croaked with a little smile. 

He rolled over onto his back with a sigh. “I should probably get up and get going.” 

“Get going with what?”

Sherlock paused in thought before making a somewhat feeble reply. 

“Well, we do have to leave here tomorrow.”

“Yeah,  _ tomorrow _ .” Molly propped herself up on an elbow. “But not  _ today _ . Sherlock, you’ve already got supplies and planned your route, so I really think it’s time to relax a little for the time you have left before you jet off to who knows where.”

“Molly, you know me. I can’t just do  _ nothing _ . That does no good for me, it’ll only drive me mad!”

She tilted her head in thought for a moment. “Well, what if I promise to keep you busy? You don’t have to do  _ nothing _ in order to destress. Why don’t we just spend the day doing things that have nothing to do with your mission?”

He was quite obviously hesitant, which didn’t surprise her. Sherlock wouldn’t be quick to give away control of his day’s activities. And if she knew him, she’d have to endure a fair amount of complaining along the way even if he did agree.

Which, surprisingly, he did.

“Fine,” he conceded, giving her a half smile. “Do your worst, Molly Hooper.”

She grinned. “Then I think I’ll start with breakfast!”

* * *

Molly would have loved to do a full fry up, but her resources were a bit limited in this little rental cottage. The best she could do was eggs, sausage, tomatoes, and toast. Thankfully, Sherlock seemed more than content with what she had to offer.

“So, wha’s next on the list?” Sherlock questioned, chewing his last bite.

“I was thinking we’d have a walk. Y’know there’s some lovely land around the cottage, nothing and nobody else for miles. So I just thought it’d be nice to stretch our legs a bit.”

Sherlock got up, dutifully placing his plate and utensils in the sink. “I suppose.”

Molly gestured to him with a smirk. “That’s a magnificent dressing gown, but I think something else might do better for a stroll in the woods. Why don’t you change first while I finish up here?”

He sighed heavily, grumbling, “Fine,” before making his way back up the stairs.

Molly just smiled and shook her head, knowing very well that he was hardwired to complain at being told what to do. She didn’t take it personally and remained determined to carry out her plan of all day pleasant distractions. 

The man would enjoy himself if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

As Molly came out of the bathroom later that evening after a hot shower, still toweling off her hair, she smiled to herself at what she’d accomplished. She’d made breakfast, they’d packed snacks and taken a lengthy walk throughout the land surrounding the cottage, and once they returned they spent a good bit of the afternoon playing some of the board games Molly dug up in the cottage’s closet. He may not have enjoyed all of them, but they certainly ate up some time. Before she knew it she needed to throw together a bit of dinner. 

After all of that activity the day had really flown by, and somehow the sun was already setting before her eyes as she glanced out the bedroom window. And an especially breathtaking sunset it was too.

Molly padded down the creaking staircase, surprised to see Sherlock shuffling around in the kitchen.

He turned at the sound of her approaching, sliding a mug across the counter in her direction. “Ah, Molly, just in time.”

“What’s all this?” she asked with a little laugh. 

“I thought perhaps I could contribute...in a small way.” Sherlock stood a touch taller, visibly pleased with himself. “I took the liberty of making us some hot chocolate.”

Molly grinned. “Did you?” She picked up the mug and gasped in excitement. “Whipped cream too? My goodness, I’m impressed!”

He shrugged. “The whipped cream was in the fridge, so you can thank Bridget for that.”

“That was nice of her, seeing as it’s hardly a necessity. I don’t even remember seeing it in there.” Molly took a sip and let out an involuntary groan of approval. “Mm, this is perfect!”

Sherlock chuckled. “Yes, well I’ve only managed it after years of practice. Not just anyone can warm milk, stir cocoa mix into it, and spray whipped cream on top.” He paused, gesturing to her face. “Uh- you have some- just there on your lip…”

“Oop, of course I do. I always manage that,” Molly laughed, wiping at her mouth. “Got it?”

He hesitated for a breath, then stepped closer. “Nearly,” he replied softly, reaching out and dragging his thumb over the skin at the corner of her lips, making the air catch in her throat. “Got it.”

Molly remembered how to breathe again, instinctively licking her lips and managing a quiet “thanks.”

They settled in by the fire, mostly quiet as they both drank their hot chocolate. Molly was actually beginning to get a little sleepy, staring into the crackling flames and feeling cozy after her hot shower and the warm liquid had filled her stomach. She jumped a bit when Sherlock hopped up from his seat and began pacing.

“It’s too early for bed, I’ll still be up for hours,” he complained. “Now what?”

“Oh. Um, well, let’s see…” Molly sat up in her chair, realizing she was back on duty. “I think we’ve already played all the board games here in the cottage.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Thank God for that.”

Molly shrugged. “Then let’s play something else. A...word game or...guessing game or something.”

He flopped back into his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “I’d rather have a case, if only that were an option. Maybe a cigarette.”

“No,” Molly replied, scrunching her nose at the thought. Then, a lightbulb clicked on above Molly’s head and she gasped. “Oh! I know what we can play! You said, you’d rather, and that reminded me of something I used to play with my friends in Uni sometimes.”

He merely lifted a brow. “Was it ghastly?.”

Molly ignored his quip. “It’s called ‘would you rather,’ and someone gives you the choice of two things or scenarios, and you have to pick. And usually it’s meant to be a tough choice. But! I have an idea to make it more interesting. What if we turn it into ‘would  _ I _ rather?’ Then it becomes a game of deduction about the other person. So, for instance, would I rather...a day packed full of postmortems or full of testing samples?”

Sherlock tilted his head, letting out a little laugh. “Honestly, Molly, I do hope that was just an example. Isn’t this meant to be a challenge? Postmortems, obviously!”

“Nicely done!” Molly gave him a little clap. “Ok, so now you go, and I have to figure it out.”

“Hmm...would I rather spend the day solving three fives or solving one nine?”

Molly laughed aloud. “As you said, Sherlock, isn’t this meant to be challenging? Of course you’d rather solve one nine.”

“Alright, alright, it’s clear we both know each other professionally,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “Perhaps for the sake of the challenge, we keep strictly to personal preferences?”

Molly narrowed her eyes.  _ This could be interesting _ . 

“Good thinking,” she agreed with a little nod. “Ok, my turn. Would I rather...have a first date at a theater or at a restaurant?”

Sherlock placed his steepled fingers against his lips, thinking for a moment. “A restaurant. You’d like to be able to look at him and talk to him, instead of being stuck in the dark.”

She grinned. “Very good.”

Before they knew it, over an hour had gone by, the time quickly eaten up as the game bounced back and forth between them. It was more fun than even Molly had anticipated, and it was especially amusing when Sherlock occasionally got one wrong. As they kept going though, it became a little harder to come up with options, so Molly began searching for “would you rathers” on her mobile, making her way down a long list.

“My turn,” Sherlock volunteered. “Would I rather live in the city or in the country?”

“Ok,  _ that’s _ an easy one,” Molly replied instantly. “The city.”

“No _ pe _ .”

She reared back in surprise.

“Cases and work are in the city, which appeals to me,” he explained. “But in general, country life is my preference. In fact, it’s where I intend to be in my older years.”

Molly pursed her lips, genuinely intrigued by this new information. 

“Wow, I...I had no idea. Ok, I’ll go.”

Her eyes shifted down to the list she’d been scrolling through, and when they fell on the next option she paused for a moment, feeling her face heat up despite the fire beside her having already all but burned out.

“What?”

Molly glanced back at him, gulping. “Oh, um, I was just trying to choose my next one.”

_ Oh, sod it… _

“But I think I’ve got it.” She drew a breath of courage. “Would I rather initiate a first kiss, or be kissed?”

Sherlock seemed to freeze, his eyes widening ever so slightly as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His gaze had instantly become too intense, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to look away as she waited for what seemed like an eternity for him to answer.

He cleared his throat. “Be kissed,” he finally replied softly. “You would rather be kissed.”

She was ready to tell him he was right and move swiftly along. But he wasn’t done.

“You’re content to wait instead of making the first move, partly because you suffer from a fair amount of self doubt, which means you can’t stop yourself from questioning whether your initiation of a kiss would be well received or whether it would lead to rejection.”

Molly’s expression fell a bit. This was quickly turning into an uncomfortable sort of deduction and she was beginning to wish she’d picked a safer question.

“But probably more than that,” Sherlock added, his voice dropping to a shiver inducing timbre. “A man taking charge in physical affection, when appropriate and welcome of course, is  _ definitely _ a turn on for you.”

She shifted in her seat, wondering if he knew what he was doing to her right now and further wondering whether she should play into it or not. 

“Molly…”

She panicked.

“It’s um, I think it’s getting late now,” Molly announced, shooting up from her chair. “Yeah, it’s getting close to midnight, so maybe I should just-“

His hand shot out, closing around her wrist and halting her as he stood from his chair as well, eyes staying locked on hers.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry I- I shouldn’t have asked you...” she managed in a whisper, shaking her head. “It was just supposed to be for fun and-”

“But was I right?”

She frowned. “What?”

Sherlock gave her the very slightest of smiles. “Did I get it right?”

Molly swallowed thickly, pressing her lips together before releasing them and managing to reply in a whisper, both eager and afraid to find out what would happen after she did.

“I think you know you did.”

In the very same moment that Molly realized Sherlock’s hand had come up to wrap securely around the back of her neck, his mouth was on hers; warm, soft, unexpectedly confident.

And  _ incredibly sexy _ .

She gasped in response, reaching out instinctively to steady herself. As her hands made contact, the possibility of pulling away left her mind as quickly as it had entered, and she instead wrapped her hands around his torso, feeling every ripple of lean muscle along his sides and back beneath her fingers. She could feel his fingers sink into the hair at her nape, gently taking hold and tilting her head to the proper angle, tasting and teasing her lips until she couldn’t help but open them greedily, needing his mouth as desperately as air. Molly’s fingers gripped the back of his shirt, her head spinning deliciously at the press of his tongue against hers and the way he was holding her so tightly against himself. 

She nearly screamed aloud in protest when he pulled away.

“Molly, I-,“ he gasped. “You should know that I’m not saying that I want... In truth, I can’t say if I’ll ever be ready for something really…”

She grasped his face between her palms, understanding his meaning well enough and wanting nothing more than to silence him, to tell him it was ok and that she didn’t care about what this  _ wasn’t _ . Part of her knew she might later, but in the moment she cared much more deeply about what this  _ was _ , and about not wasting it.

“Sherlock,  _ I can see you,  _ ok? I’m a big girl and I know what this is and what this isn’t” she practically growled. “Now  _ please _ , just keep kissing me.”

He seemed more than ready to oblige, his lips instantly devouring hers again as they began awkwardly shuffling toward the staircase and making their way up as smoothly as their continued kissing would allow. Molly wasn’t sure how they managed it.

In truth, she may as well have been floating, carried on a cloud all the way up the stairs and into the tiny upstairs bedroom. That would have felt about as real as the rest of it did. She even considered in the moment that perhaps it wasn’t real at all, and that she’d fallen asleep by the fire and imagined it all. But she didn’t care.

It was the best dream she’d ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, soooo...things happen lol. Exactly how much happens, you ask? Well, to be honest I’ve decided not to specify, so I’ll leave that to readers choice. One more chapter, guys! Talk to me, I’d love to hear from you. ;)  
> Beta reading credit to Lexie ❤️


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A final chapter to wrap things up and connect the two seasons! See you at the bottom...

Sherlock stood there, silent and statuesque beside the bed, eyes riveted to Molly who was still absolutely dead asleep with her hair fanned out ungraciously across the pillow. 

He’d woken up more than an hour earlier, unable to sleep a minute more. He tried sitting up in bed for a while and reading, but eventually got up and got dressed when his nervous anticipation wouldn’t subside. He knew what was coming and he simply couldn’t handle it. 

He couldn’t handle saying goodbye. 

Once he settled on what he needed to do, he texted Mycroft, confirming that a car could be there to collect him within the hour. When he’d finally finished with that, he packed up the very few things he’d brought before making his way downstairs to turn on a light and compose a letter. And now, there he stood with the carefully folded paper in his hand, reality hitting him that it was time to actually walk away. 

He was finding it more than a little difficult. 

After finally placing the letter on the pillow next to her, Sherlock’s feet remained stubbornly planted in the floor next to the bed. He might have stayed put and stared at her for hours more if he were able. 

Feeling suddenly reckless, he couldn’t resist leaning down, brushing some of her hair aside and gently pressing a kiss to her temple. He decided it was the one chance he’d take, the one line he’d throw out to fate, promising himself that if she happened to wake he’d be brave enough to say goodbye properly instead of disappearing into the shadows like this. 

But after his lips left the warmth of her skin, he found that despite a gentle sigh, she still slept soundly. It was for the best, he reminded himself.

Taking one final look, he smiled softly at the peaceful sight of her and whispered only loud enough for himself to hear, “Goodbye, Molly Hooper.”

* * *

_ Dearest Molly, _

_ By the time you find this I’ll already be gone. Mycroft sent a car to pick me up. I’ll be leaving the country soon, so I’m afraid this will have to do for a goodbye. I confess this is what I preferred, and I hope you can understand and forgive me.  _

_ You see, I didn’t want to remember you with fear in your eyes, looking at me as if you might not ever see me again. I’d like to remember these last few days with you, and think of you that way- smiling, happy, being yourself. And if I don’t ever get to see you again (not to worry though, I’m a difficult man to kill) I know I’ll be content with what we had. The way you’ve always been there for me, particularly recently, has meant a great deal. Perhaps someday I’ll have the chance to thank you properly.  _

_ Molly, regarding the events of last night, as you said in that moment, you’re a big girl and you knew what that was, so I know you’re hardly asking anything more of me. I will admit there’s a part of me that wishes I did have more to offer, more to promise. But you have always been the one to see me for who I am and more importantly, who I am not.  _

_ Please take care of yourself, Molly. I wish you all the happiness life has to offer. _

_ Your friend (always), _

_ Sherlock _

* * *

**Two Years Later**

For just the briefest of moments, Molly truly thought she was hallucinating. She thought she was seeing what she’d seen a thousand times in her dreams and in the sleepless nights she’d spent imagining this moment. It took her nearly half a minute to truly understand that what she was seeing was real, and it wasn’t going away.

“Sherlock,” she breathed, beginning to allow the full extent of the happiness and relief to overtake her. 

That tiny, breathtaking little smile of his played at the corner of his lips as he stepped forward. He hadn’t changed a bit.

“Hello, Molly.”

She hesitated for only one more breath, then flew across the room, every moment they’d shared from two years before replaying in her mind in rapid fire. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and like yesterday all at once. He caught her instantly, his arms wrapped around her warm and tight, conjuring memories of the last time she’d felt the strength of his arms around her body.

Molly ducked her head down, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of him and feeling the collar of his coat against her cheek. 

He was  _ home _ . And she couldn’t help but feel that she finally was as well. 

“You’re ok,” she said with a little sniff, pulling back to look at him and marveling at the reality of it all over again. 

He smirked. “Told you I was hard to kill.”

“Please tell me you’re back for good.”

“For good, yes.” He tilted his head. “That is, unless John ships me off somewhere, this time by force.”

Molly laughed. “He’ll come around eventually, I know he will. It’ll be alright. Everything will be alright now. I just...I can’t believe it. You’re really back!”

All truly felt right with the world. Sherlock Holmes had been a missing piece in her life for far too long, and finally everything felt complete again.  _ She _ felt complete. She quickly pushed off the twinge of guilt in the back of her mind, telling her that she should have felt complete already. 

“Busy right now? Fancy a coffee?”

Her heart leapt involuntarily. What she would have given to hear those words every day since she’d seen him last.

“I’d love one,” she agreed, and they left the locker room.

“I hope this place hasn’t been too dull without me,” Sherlock quipped, glancing around as they walked the hallways that admittedly seemed alive again with his presence. “Anything interesting happen while I’ve been away?”

Molly gulped, giving him a quick smile. “Some things have happened, I suppose.” 

She paused as he waited expectantly, deciding that now wasn’t the time. Perhaps she didn’t want it to be the time.

“But it’s not important right now,” she said brightly, giving him another smile. “What matters is that your back.”

Molly may have been purposely withholding some of her own news, but what did a little piece of personal news matter at a time like this? In that moment, Sherlock’s return truly was what mattered. 

Because if she were honest, to her,  _ he _ was what mattered the most. 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this a brief wrap up? Yes. But I really wanted this to focus more on that little escape they had together for those few days rather than on what happens between them from s3 onward. Hope you guys enjoyed this little fic, and I can tell you I’ve got another sherlolly fic waiting in the wings which I think you’ll enjoy. I hope to be sharing a first chapter within the next week or two! :)  
> Beta credit to Lexie ❤️


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